This perpetual emotion
it needs no fuel to run
no engine to move
cleansed in the heart of a dying star
it rises from the ashes
this forever running river
it can not be dammed
washes over everything
this galactic circus
with interstellar clowns
and constellation jugglers
all
rises from ashes
born again and again
no matter how many times it's stabbed in the chest
No comments:
Post a Comment